


Phantasm High Club

by Kickberry



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Titjob, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kickberry/pseuds/Kickberry
Summary: One Master of a certain Chaldea finds himself in a different world filled with wonders and women he'll learn to enjoy and tolerate by his standards.





	1. Genisis

Aww shit, how the hell did this happen? It’s bad enough Mash offered to give me a blowjob before we Rayshifted (my on-call FWB tried to drain me before a mission). Then when we did travel through the huge tunnel like flushed fish, something huge whacked into me! It didn’t even hit Mash, just bitch-slapped me out of time traveling, into some part of who-the-hell knows where.

Along the way, the space around me turns dark and cold - reminds me of Leonardo’s sense of humor for some reason. When I was young, my momma used to say troublemakers like me who don’t go to church deserve to be in purgatory. God, can you hear me? It’s me, Gen. Please take me out of here so I can go back to watching slutty heathens on the net. Oh right, and getting the daily sex from my Servants.

“Wake up.”

A voice stirs me from my sleep. Okay, so all this darkness is here because my eyes are closed from fainting. Fuck, Roman better not have seen this. But the thing that woke me, she sounds like an angel. Did you hear me, God? Or is there a hotter divine figure who heard my prayer?

“Hey, meatbag! Get up and stop slobbering all over the damn floor!”

A soft, flat object slams into my head. With a howl, I get up and touch my stung cheek. I also see that I’m no longer in that ‘purgatory’ place. In fact, nothing here looks exactly like hell, heaven, or wherever it is spirits get lost in. But the hallway and the white floor do look familiar.

“Oh, you’re awake? Enjoyed your sleep, dog?”

Goddamn, what an arrogant-ass laugh. What the hell is this chick’s problem, standing over me half-nude (not strange when there’s a whole team of hot babes fighting in practically their underwear). This one has long, locks of black hair and peach skin that glows from the background light. She has a white bra and black panties, some two-piece garment decorated with golden bands - reminding me a bit of a certain king of Urk (pisses him off when I say this out loud like taking a shit). The rude lady also has one, aquamarine boot for a foot - strange taste in fashion. So yeah, I’m likely in the presence of some Heroic Spirit who has some misplaced self-esteem that is as big as her peach-shaped ass.

“Boy, do you know who you grovel before?” The haughty woman rears her head back and cackles (nailed it, narcissist inbound). “I am the Goddess Ishtar, holy ruler of this dimension, Queen of all Heroic Spirits. I govern Venus, plus the cosmos when the other gods come short with their authority. And as Rider, my chariot allows me to surf the stars without-.”

“My name’s Gen, Master of Chaldea. I want to speak to your superior.”

Isthar grits her teeth; a vein throbs from the side of her head. “Excuse you? Did you just interrupt me, boy?”

I clear my throat to match the hosts’s conceited tone - best I could - and reply, “Why yes, I think I did because it’s hard to take this conversation seriously when you’re sucking your own cock.” This makes her fume. I don’t give a shit and repeat, “Now where is your Master? Queen or King, you would have been summoned by someone who’s holding your leash with Command Spells, Queen of _Servants_.”

“Your disrespectful words are building up to becoming a hefty crime,” the goddess sneers. “I have every mind to smite you on the spot.”

“If you’re raring to go, sure.” I stand up, tense and ready for some Servant smacking. With a thought, high-grade Mana courses through my veins. “Just don’t miss or you might find me on top teaching _you_ a lesson.”

There’s really no bluff here, Ishtar doesn’t scare me. Gilgamesh even said he would rather deal with her than me (and these two tried to up one another when they were neigbors). A pause follows my declaration; no fire or brimstone. Bitch is all talk. It settles the fact that not only does she have a Master, there’s the whole ‘thou Servants shall not fuck the saviors of mankind’ law going on.

“On top? So that’s the sort of man you are. Quite aggressive for a lower existence to act in the presence of a Divine Spirit, especially when you dropped in out of nowhere.”

The lower eyes and tone, bending into a suggestive stance; the narcissist bitch just became a half-assed slut. She’s trying to seduce me with that high schooler’s body? I’m hoping she doesn’t try to put the pedophile label on me. And worse, there’s no communications from Mash or Roman, leaving me to rely on other, unpleasant options.

But just to humor her (in extension, me), I let her come close and drag a finger from my collarbone to chest - around one of my rock-hard pecs. Her eyes slightly rise, impressed by the muscles beneath my white and black uniform. She better be when this tan body, my temple, is built from hours of training - sparring with Spartacus and Emiya. And that’s as far as her hand is going; any in my ebony, spiky hair is crossing my comfort zone.

“Well, I suppose it is fair for me to inform you where this is. You look a bit lost. It’s a first time I’ve seen a Rayshift traveler tumble out of the transition like a retarded carp.”

So no apology or graceful comment, but another insult? She’s already reaching the top of my shit list, memories full of assholes.

“Alright, Fishtar. Care to tell me where this is?”

Rider walks ahead. I follow, my feet clatter against the soft floor. I have an idea where this is, but it’s better to have clarification. Plus, meeting her Master would seem more polite than rude - rather not start another Holy Grail Grudge.

“I’m not sure if this is good or bad news, but you have managed to stumble upon this place when my Master planned to invite others who also traverse through the history with Rayshift technology. She envisioned that setting up shop in the middle of one’s home to the objective would introduce a proper business.”

“Like a rest stop?”

“Something like that.” Ishtar’s sing-song voice doesn’t calm my temper. When we turn a corner, rainbow lights flutter around the air and walls. This larger room looks unique...I think?

The goddess twirls around me before she stops and aims hands at the object of interest with both hands. “Welcome to Viva La Historia. We’re not exactly open yet, but there’s no harm that you become this establishment’s very, first customer.”

Ishtar looks proud of this whole shebang. I’m a little concerned. Yes, this place is Chaldea, an alternate version from mine, making this entire setting some sort of mirror dimension - one of few. That’s why I could tell this large room is the same my team would use to transport people through the past and dimensions (places my adventurous Servants requests to have sex at - Martha and the Vatican still count as the best one). One of the biggest alterations is the wall colored scarlet and lined with doors cast in different shades of the rainbow. Next is the circular, silver counter sitting at the center and filled with transparent screens, the usual holo tech. This ‘command center’ is surrounded by golden shelves packed with books, treats, and toys. None of them are appropriate for children.

“It looks like my Master is still out.” Ishtar strolls forward. I trail behind until we reach the counter. There, the goddess hops over to stand on the other side and in front of a floating screen. “The staff is setting up a new Rayshift department in a different place. According to Master, it’s better for the business to use this abundant space.”

Last I remembered, the nerds in my Chaldea needed the space to pool huge amounts of energy for the Rayshifting. What kind of Master could convince an alternate Roman and Da Vinci to move the entire setup? Is there a way to get those eggheads to listen? My posse drives me batshit bonkers on a whim!

“And what business is this exactly?” I try not to channel the anger of my demented past into the present. Of course, I share a bit of this strong emotion to put a bit of scare into little Bitchtar here. “You didn’t bother to explain that yet.”

“I-it’s just a one-of-a-kind whorehouse.” Ishtar loses all of her spark - ha, ruined her momentum, probably because she’s wary of my half-maniacal tone and smile (could give Mephistopheles a run for his dues to the devil). “Master acquired a team of gorgeous waifus, some good-looking men. She figured renting them out would make them more useful than putting them on standby until the next singularity.”

“And you’re not with them because…”

The anger vein reappears on Isthar’s head. She seethes, “I’m a goddess. Even my Master would never consider a worshipped deity like myself as a regular harlot.”

It sounds like she’s lying, but there’s no reason for me to give a shit about it. Out of curiosity, I ask, “So how does this work? And do you have some sort of catalogue for me to see the selection?”

Ishtar raises an eyebrow. “As a customer, you would pick and choose who you want to do before entering through those doors operated by a Reality Marble. But oye, you need to pay before you can lay a hand on the merchandise. We accept QPs for the goods, Saint Quartzs for the service.”

“You mean I have to pay now and see a list that could possibly give me a derection?” I scrunch my face, give a good show of disdain (try to ignore how the hell they have something like a Reality Marble working like it’s a damn refrigerator). “No thanks. I don’t take scams.”

“Scams? If you paid, you’d get to spend time with beauty unrivaled by the normal Servants. It’s not like doing an orgy with a bunch of Boudicas and Kiyohimes would be comparable to a five-star buffet!”

That idea about the orgy did tempt me, but my ascended honeys wouldn’t have appreciated that. I lean an elbow on the counter and look Ishtar straight in the eyes (gotta look boss when dropping some knowledge bombs on her sweet ass).

“How many five-stars do you have? All females?”

The goddess smirks without flinching from my gaze. “Gorgeous women for days. And we do have some men if you’re interested.”

“Not a bad idea, but no deal,” I sigh. “You do know there are Masters like me who could have relations with Servants of similar quality?”

“But ours are better.”

“So are mine. I know because they want me every day, during times when it can be a bit of an inconvenience.”

Ishtar blinks. I might have snapped at her a bit too hard.

“So do you want to give our male selection a try?”

Oh my fuck, she thought of something else. At this point, I’m more annoyed than angry. “No. I’ll just wait until your Master comes back. Where is she anyways?”

“Off collecting supplies.” Ishtar slumps against a seat I can’t see from my perspective. “And that’s it? You’re going to give up?”

“Not until you present a better deal. And here’s a free tip: nobody is going to buy unless you convince me to spend. That’s the endgame for a business.”

Ishtar drums her finger against something (still can’t see cause this counter is so damn high). The goddess stays silent for a bit before she raises a blue tablet onto the surface in front of me. I remain just as quiet and press the device’s glass to make it glow, reveal its list of familiar names. One scan of the info later, I feel disappointed.

“Women for days? There’s five, only two seem interesting. The rest are just three-star clones with different labels; were you trying to rip me off?!”

“N-no.” Ishtar (gonna have to start referring to her as Bitchtar) looks down with a shaky voice. “If you add them all up, they add up to one-hundred and five. Divide all that by three and you have five-star waifus for days.”

Enraged, I drop the tablet. The goddess scrambles to snatch it before it hits the counter. “Fuck that logic, you tried to scam me! Even if you added your name here, nobody will ever want to consider getting laid in this sad excuse of a whorehouse!”

Before my tirade can go on and pummel this scammer, one of the doors slam open. I step back and prepare for trouble. Instead, an unusual figure walks out with light shining from the doorway. When the cover closes, the brightness vanishes to show the guest in her full, bodacious glory.

“Ishtar, why is there shouting? Is the customer giving you trouble?”

The new, third member to join this mess is a blonde, busty women. She wears a single-piece dress painted pearly white, a bit transparent around the good bits. Her long, soft hair drops over her shoulders like water, a heavenly bundle of golden yarn. Yep, before us stands Jeanne D’Arc, savior of France and, unfortunately, a Servant-branded hooker.

I take a moment to appreciate this beauty, always had a thing for the Jeannes. This ends when Bitchtar hisses, “Yeah, he is. Want to beat the shit out of him for it?”

“First, I’d like to hear what the problem is.” The new arrival turns her head to grant me her attention. “Does the selection not suit you?”

“That was the first one. Then she became a headache by trying to cheat me out of my Quartzs.” I jerk a finger at goddess, who glares back. It’s almost tempting to see what happens what I can do to drive her into killing me (good luck with that attempt). “But you don’t need to intervene. I’m only waiting for the Master to come back so I could say hi, then ask if I can use your tech to reconnect with the Roman of my dimension and get the hell out of here.”

“I see, a Master of a different Chaldea. Welcome to Viva La Historia.”

Of course, she, a Ruler Class, addresses me like a human being unlike the first greeter. The same, polite savior looks at the goddess. “And that does sound troubling. Ishtar, will Master really be alright if you chased another customer away?”

“Another?” I leer at the conniving Rider. “What the hell, I thought all of this is fresh off of liftoff.”

Ishtar starts to sweat bullets. Jeanne lowers her head and frowns, “You tried to cheat him? Did you charge him a premium before he could view his choices.”

The culprit moves her eyes from me to Jeanne. She sits straight up and regains composure. “To be fair, I never clarified anything aside from the price, which is fine until you saw the menu. You still had a choice to pay or not in the end.”

My blood boils, nails sharpen, and muscles harden. “Oh, you are full of shit!” I step towards the corrupt goddess until Jeanne stands in the way.

“Master, I apologize for her behavior. Please do not bear ill will against the Historia because of her actions”

The Ruler bows head with her apology. Ishtar hisses, “Don’t call him that! You only do it after he pays!”

I wait for Jeanne to rise back up. Our eye contact confirms we no longer consider Ishtar a part of this conversation (good riddance). “To rectify this wrongdoing, I would like to offer a free trial with two females.”

Wow, freebies with five-star ladies as an apology? Somehow, that’s not a bad offer. It’s also making Ishtar’s eyes pop out of their sockets, a plus if I say ‘yes’ now. “Interesting deal. Would your Master be okay with this?”

“She would approve this more than the way this manager has been performing.” Jeanne lowers her eyelids, a villainess stare. “As of now, I may have to take over since Ishtar may or may not hit her third strike before she’s uprooted from her post.”

Whoa, the Saint of Orleans is overthrowing a goddess from her post? This power play is turning me on. And my erection, my demon tower just grew into a bulge in my pants.

“So to complete this contract, Master, I propose you take it.” The sultry Jeanne grabs my hand, so soft (nothing like a virgin). She leads me towards the open doorway - wow, steering me into a party way faster and better than Bitchtar. “Because you’ll find our arrangement will go beyond your greatest fantasy.”

*****

So we enter through the door to find ourselves in a room. This place doesn’t look very sexy. The floor, walls, and ceiling are made of wooden planks. The bed is small - hardly a queen size - and the fabric looks too thin. The temperature is fine, but the sour stench doesn’t make this any more tolerable than this rotten smell.

“Each Servant of the Historia is responsible for a certain setting and act. We are inside a rural inn as guests for this setting.”

Jeanne passes me to sit on the bed. She shines with that angelic smile of hers. It’s a bit cliche, but still a classic turn-on especially when it’s made with those red, luscious lips.

“So would this be in France?” I look around, somehow manage to get back into a horny mood. “Did we travel back in time?”

The Ruler giggles, “Oh no, we simply use a Reality Marble. Details such as country or address are usually left to the customer’s imagination.”

Oh right, Ishtar mentioned this ‘simple’ technology earlier. I still don’t understand how that’s possible, but not my business to find out.

“And as per the condition of this reality, I am as of now a virgin.”

“Virgin?” I tilt my head and cross arms. “Like your hymen is restored?”

“Every time I enter this room.” Jeanne leans back to lie on the bed. She moves her legs apart and places hands on the spot between her neck and bosom, kinky. “The pain is not so great that I would demand for you to stop. Feel free to ‘break’ me, corrupt me, conquer if you so desire. Force me to relive the experience of a deflowered maiden.”

When one of history’s exalted saints asks me to wreck her cherry with that sexy voice, it’s considered a dishonor not to fulfill the request. Plus, this is ‘free’ - but everyone knows nothing’s really free. Still, I lean down and grab the front of Jeanne’s dress.

“Master, please kiss me.”

“No.” I tear the white fabric in half. Hunger drives me to press into the soft flesh with fingers - no underwear! I go straight for one breast, suck on the nipple with my mouth. Jeanne breaths, “O-or we can do foreplay. Wh-whatever you desire.”

There’s not much taste, but the course of fucking compels me to swirl my tongue around the mound of hard flesh. I suck and pull the titty around with lips, my partner bites her finger and moans. Her second breast gets a pinch from my finger. Her pussy gets hard rubs from my crotch, the bulge beneath my pants. Her juices wets the entire area.

“M-master, there is a robe in the closet behind you.”

I raise my head to free the nipple so my other hand could clamp digits on the hardened tip. “We’re doing this, now.” I give the milkers a good twist, make Jeanne squeal. Rubbing makes her moan and twist. One yank stretches the breasts into small mountains; she grips the bed sheets below with her hands.

“And now for down here.” I let go of the titties to slide hands down the Ruler’s curvaceous form. Her skin feels like silk, almost as soft as her hair and breasts. Hips and thighs feel are, almost hard to believe she’s could be as strong as the previous ones I’ve fought. At the place near the vagina, I stop and hover my head right in front of the opening to give it a lick from the bottom of the mouth to the top, a salty taste.

“M-master, wh-what are you doing?”

I don’t bother to reply; she should just enjoy the cunnlingus. My tongue rubs here and there, flicks at the clitoris. Jeanne wiggles about and huffs, but can’t move out of range because I have a good hold on her hips. Her jerking grows intense when two of my fingers go into her pussy, penetrate it. Juices flow out minutes later.

“Do you not get a lot of action or is the restored hymen making you this sensitive?”

“M-my original Master doesn’t pay much attention to me as she does our Mash.” The Ruler blushes deep. “I’m sorry if my reactions are not to your liking.”

“Actually, you’re fitting the mood just right.” I raise my head and wipe the fluids there with the back of one hand. “Any virgins with sass or complaints would kill it. You’re meeting at the middle pretty well.”

As I reach down to unzip my pants zipper, Jeanne smiles. She returns, “Thank you. I’m glad to have met...that...standard?” Her words turned into a squeak after my cock droops out, half-erect at six inches. It has a darker complexion than my skin. Size and color doesn’t surprise her as the bumps sporting from the bottom of the cock head all the way down to the base.

“I’m not an expert on phalluses, but is that normal?”

“No.” I swing the meat stick around to help it circulate more blood, excite it into its full size. “Which is just about right. I’m not one-hundred percent Human after all.”

Jeanne puts on a quizzical face. I don’t mind it and slap my cock on top of her crotch. Pre-cum spills onto her skin. I wipe my fluids around as my dck grows. Its full potential stands out twelve inches long, wide as a soda can, and contains semen that can come out pitches thanks to my orange-sized testicles. And the bumps, they also stretched out to look like the ones on dildos, fancy what genetic engineering did for me even if it wasn’t my choice to have it.

“So any other questions or can we get this started?”

Jeanne doesn’t reply or move; did she freeze? Answering is her responsibility, so there’s not much guilt when I press my cock against her snatch’s mouth. I pull her legs to drag that sweet ass closer to my front so one thrust could put the penis tip right against a familiar barricade made of hard tissue.

The receiver turns stiff and grabs my shoulders with an iron grip. I just dig harder, shove my bump-ridden meat inside. Resilience pays off to the point my cock rips through so its length could fill her tight, warm tunnel. I stay like this as Jeanne moans, a noise she muffles with closed lips. What’s strange is that she was right to some extent, her reaction is prepping me to go wild once she’s done adjusting.

“Is everything alright?”

Jeanne nods as I put her legs onto my shoulders. “And there is no blood. The hymen was a creation of this environment. My vagina is back to its original state.”

“That’s good.” I growl and let out hot air, steam rising from the heat created by my body’s Mana production. “Because you’re about to take all of my twelve inches.”

“Twelve inches?!”

The Ruler’s voice strains when my dick reaches halfway inside. she quivers like a shaken beer can, but Jeanne doesn’t beg me to stop or do anything rash. Like a whorish trooper, she takes everything - only tears the sheets with her nails. When the tip reaches the end, sweat and drool spills out of her face. Her vaginal walls wrap around my meat really hard - just like a deflowered virgin.

“Ngh, Master!”

“Hi Jeanne.” I rotate my hips, stew the cock inside. Her insides squeeze out more fluids. “Is this the first time you had a piece this big?”

The Ruler couldn’t get off a coherent reply. For the sake of time, I start to move. In and out, my penis slides across her hole’s sensitive parts. Her twitches grow weak; she’s growing stronger, ascending from Jeanne the whore into Jeanne the harlot (hope that’s not offensive to her religion).

Over time, I wail into her. This is not just sex or breeding, I’m just a guy fulfilling one desire: pummeling her erogenous zones to get a reaction. Her moans, shrieks, and tight grip; it’s fantastic coming from someone like her. The bed below rocks from this union, its frame starts to groan from the strain.

“Master, Master!” Jeanne pulls her legs off of my shoulders to wrap them around my body. She’s also getting into this. “Mph, fweh, Master!”

Her walls pulse and squirts, one orgasm after another. Her fulfillment convinces me to wreck her pussy, slap my flesh against hers loud enough to rattle the walls (good thing we don’t have neighbors). Jeanne loses her mind, just screams and calls for her deity.

“Oh my God, Lord! Oh Lord!”

“Are you already getting bored?” I push her legs down so mine could constrict around hers and pin wrists to the bed. My penis stays put inside her, keeps the pussy nice and stretched - still tight like an asshole. “Don’t scream another man’s name when we’re doing it.”

Jeanne blushes. She tries to buck out of this hold. “Don’t say something so absurd! You know very well why-.”

I cover Jeanne’s lips with my pair to force tongue into her mouth. We trade spit and wrap our tongues around each other. I restart my thrusts slow, but hard to make our bodies meet in a pleasurable way. We keep this up for a long time until my balls tighten for release.

“Gonna cum.”

“Yes,” my partner breathes. It’s hard to talk when we’re still making out. “Mph, feel free to cu-! Stop it!”

I just peck her lips to cut her off; it’s cute when she gets frustrated. Back to work, I shove my hips into hers, squeeze the rest of the meat in until the cockhead runs into a softer area, her womb. Jeanne mewls and cums from this kiss. Her tightness helps me unload it all, thick Mana-strengthened milk.

Several spurts later, my dick calms down. Jeanne hugs me tight and breaths into my face, tries to recuperate from the direct filling. Her vagina is not letting go of my penis - got a clinger here. I also pause to relax, wait five minutes before I catch a second wind.

“I’m sorry, Master, but that was incredible.”

“Could see that.” I look at Jeanne’s face, into her clear blue eyes. She still manages to smile even after her first, rough experience with me. “But we’re not done yet, or is there a time limit?”

My hot, blonde partner unwinds her legs from mine. I rise to pull out my cock. After a pop, the flaccid meat is free. A small, stream of cum flows out. “We never specified one, so you’re free to continue until you’re done.”

“That’s not good business.” I grab Jeanne’s shoulders and flip her over like a pancake. She gasps after her front meets the mattress. I lie on her back and kiss up her neck. “Because that can take hours. My advice, pay by time.”

The Ruler laughs, “We’ll consider your advice, which is good in my opinion.” She shivers once my lips find the nape of her neck before the earlobe. “Is it also wise if we charge for anal play?”

“Sure, but I’m not going for that hole.” I get on my knees and make a grab for her large ass, dig fingers into these full, squishy cheeks. “Your pussy is mine until I’m satisfied.”

*****

Okay, came inside Jeanne three times. She lost, then regained consciousness during the last one. She’s impressed by my stamina (most women are). My new friend recommended I try someone else - she’s tapping out, no surprise. Jeanne convinced Bitchtar to let me see one of their five-star attractions.

Now, this one surprised me because they didn’t have her name on the list. And the scenario we meet for sex - using ‘Reality Marble’ technology (can’t believe it exists) - introduces me to a new kink.

“King Gen, does my service please you?”

I push a crown made of real gold back onto my cranium - it’s a tad big. A small, red cape is attached to my shoulders. My ass is pampered by the soft seat below. It’s attached to this chair, a big seat held together by diamod bars.

In this comfy position, my cock is back to full erection. It’s also warm and tingly when sandwiched between two marshmallow titties, lovely features owned by a woman equally beautiful.

“Sir Artoria, you’ve been a fine knight. Your lanceplay is remarkable as expected of a Lancer.”

Yes, the one giving me a titjob is Artoria Pendragon. She’s not a Saber, but a Lancer, one of the rarer ones for her power and body. In this case, the latter serves as a plus for this treatment - her chest holds **huge** , melons. Her naked figure is almost pure perfection, but I don’t plan on using her lower, child-bearing body for reasons that’ll play out soon.

“Thank you, your majesty. I live to serve my king.”

Oh right, this scenario is supposed to take place in a huge throne room. It’s nothing flashy, but the floor is made of glass tiles. The walls are white; sunlight lights up the place well from the snowflake windows. She’s supposed to be a noble knight wringing semen out of the king - who is me. So far, her cleavage and skill almost surpasses what I felt from Jeanne’s pussy (doesn’t matter cause there’s no reason to compare when I can have both).

Right now, Artoria is moving her tits up and down my cock. She works the underside of the breasts with each hand. This helps her mix up the rhythm, give a massage that’s going to give me a happy ending.

“Your majesty, it is an honor to polish this lance. The craftsmanship is the best of all the kingdoms.”

The King of Knights sure knows how to praise my dick. Artoria’s also good with its maintenance, titjob is great. At one point, she presses her milkers into my crotch to bow her head, swallow the tip. Her tongue slides around until it presses into the piss hole.

I decide it’s my turn to participate. “Hey, let me take control of your equipment. But don’t stop, keep using your hands to polish a different way.”

“Understood, your majesty.”

That title makes me feel special - this roleplay may actually be worth paying for. It gets better when Artoria fondles my balls with one hand. She uses the second set of fingers to rub my thigh, stimulate the right places. I focus to pinch her nipples and move the melons around - damn, they’re a little heavy. The owner of the lovely pair winces, but doesn’t complain.

I slide my hands around the orbs until they press into the sides. With my best grip, I squish the titties and move them, use them like sponges all over my big dick. Artoria grabs my hips to pull, press her body against mine as close as possible.

“This may hurt. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Yes, my king. I am ready.”

Her immediate, strong answer pleases me - better, makes me raunchy. I start quick, bounce the breasts like they’re basketballs. My cum leaks out and runs down the length. This helps add some lube to my wild pulls and pushes; this could really turn out to be better than a pussy, these mammaries.

Artoria stays patient with my rough handling. When I feel enough of a buildup in my crotch, I let the milkers go.

“Can you deepthroat my cock?”

“Of course.” The lance wielder bends her head down to suck in my balls, massage it inside her mouth with tongue. Seconds pass before she works on the other one. She then glides her lips up the underside of my cock before stopping at the head. “This is the one skill that makes me the best lance curator of our lands. Please accept this offering from your humble servant.”

Artoria gobbles my cock, from the head down to the base. Holy shit, she doesn’t gag when deepthroating the meat’s bumps - still chokes a bit over the size. And the entire time she has my dick in mouth, she never looks away. Her gaze stays on me even when she rises back up with a loud, slutty suck.

“Yes, keep going.”

Artoria listens, brings her mouth over penis again. My twelve-inch, monster dick never stops her from bobbing up and down, blowing me, granting more joy than any knight has given me.

Eventually comes the inevitable buildup. A streak of sadism grants me an idea, one I start by raising my legs and wrapping them around Artoria’s head. She grunts out of surprise as the penis stays in. Her throat tightens around it and quivers. It takes only a second before she adapts, closes her eyes and hums to massage my dick. Her actions grant me enough to cum in her mouth.

Loud gulps radiate from my cocksucker’s mouth; not a drop spills out. By the time I ejaculate it all out, she slides her lips off of my man meat. On her knees, Artoria opens her mouth with a loud, warm sigh. There is not a trace of semen in that hole.

“You did an excellent job, but we’re not done with the event just yet.”

I will Mana to pour from my veins into penis. This breeding tool grows back to its stiff form. Artoria gasps at the sight before she settles into a grin, looks excited to see a man prep for another round of incredible sex. This expression is why I plan to play this out as long as possible.

“So,” I begin. “Despite being a Lancer, you’re noted to have a noble steed. I want to witness that Riding skill firsthand.”

*****

Artoria and I have been at it for almost an entire day. By the end though, she slept on that throne chair. I’m pretty satisfied at this point. Exiting through the door to arrive back at Chaldea’s whorehouse center also provided a pleasant surprise: meeting Historia’s founder and mastermind.

“So you’re our guest for the day. How do you do?”

It’s a bit underwhelming to meet a midget. I don’t have a problem with size, it’s the Servants; they’re all taller than her. Fou might be the only one shorter than her. Okay, maybe there is an issue, but it’s not the point. Also, first time I see someone sport pumpkin-colored hair. The white and black uniform confirms she’s a member of Chaldea. The Command Spells on her hand answers more questions than I have in mind right now.

 

 

“I’m alright, the name’s Gen. You have a good establishment here.”

“Ritsuka, and thanks.” The midget raises a hand. I grab and shake it. It’s making this gesture that I realize her eyes are a bit bulged out. Those orange pupils also look empty like the abyss. Wow, I just felt a chill run up my spine.

“So enjoying yourself? Everything is fine here?”

I look around the room. Ishtar isn’t here minding the counter, that lazy third-rate whore - at least Gil would enslave someone into doing a job for him. “This turned out okay. The only issue is the management. Service could use some work here.”

“Oh, we are in the middle of that upgrade.” Ritsuka skips off around one of the vendor stands. She drags a large object out with a rope. By the time she stands near me with her luggage in tow, I burst into laughter.

“Ah ha, so you approve. This one is always stirring up a ruckus, so I usually have to resort to this type of discipline.”

Ritsuka’s ‘discipline’ seems a bit odd, but satisfying on my part. The Master had brought over Ishtar whose entire body is wrapped in rope, hogtied like a captured boar. Two tubes rattle from her pussy and asshole, vibrators working those holes. To top it off, there’s a blue ball gag the size of a grapefruit in her mouth. She couldn’t speak, only huff and puff as the toys work her pipes; what a fun sight.

“By the way, don’t get too comfortable with these freebies. I’ll only allow it once since Isthar here almost chased away another customer! This means I won’t have enough Quartzs for the next summon!”

Ritsuka smacks the back of the goddess’s head. This show is entertaining, but her earlier comment bothers me. There’s traces of anger and madness in her words, cues that put me on the edge. Her type of odd folks would make something like the Historia (I may create my own place someday, definitely run it better).

I banish this thought to focus on my original mission. “Actually, I’m hoping to pay now for one of your services.”

The midget cocks her head and smiles wide. “Really? What is there you would like to pay for?”

“Her.” I aim one finger at the tied-up goddess. She looks afraid. Of course she is, I’m smiling like a serial killer prepared to dine on a helpless soul. “Fishtar here has been a pain in the ass. It’s a bit of a turn-on to think what would happen if I return the favor in the literal sense.”

“Fishtar?” Ritsuka glances at her Servant with greedy eyes, obviously ignoring the plea showing from the goddess’s eyes. “You hear that Fishtar? This guy who you insulted wants to pay for anal. But I might not accept because we didn’t put a price on that. What price is there that could-.”

I raise an open hand. One thought brings energy into my palm, connects to a inter-dimension pocket that keeps all of my on-hand junk. A rainbow, spiky crystal pops out of the limb. Two more follow before a stream of Saint Quartzs fly out.

“Here’s thirty.” I stop the money flow to match my announced amount. “You can have thirty more when I finish.”

Ritsuka goes to work, collects all the crystals. They vanish right as she touches them; she should be able to do so as a Chaldea agent. “Oh sure, have fun. Want me to throw in some Command Spells so she wouldn’t put up much of a fight?”

I crack my knuckles and neck. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, Ishtar. Don’t squirm and keep those holes open for him until he’s done!”

Two, crimson beams of light shine from Ritsuka’s hand. The same color covers the imprisoned goddess’s body before it vanishes. I walk close enough to kneel down and stroke a hand down her body.

“So Ritsuka, how often is this place open?”

I unzip my pants to free my cock. The Master doesn’t mind as she skips around to collect the rest of her moolah.

“We open at one for twelve hours in the Cosmic time zone.”

“Cosmic? My place is setup with Andromeda.” I roll Ishtar over. She chokes and screams into her gag, I just ignore that noise. “Others like us live almost in between, farthest is the Milky Way.”

The Historia owner giggles, “That far? Would you be kind enough to invite them over?”

“Depends on what your Servants are up for.” I tear through ever fabric on Ishtar that separates me from her desired asshole, a place that’s about to get a readjustment. “They have some special needs, sexual preferences that not everyone can fulfill well.”

“I’m sure we can find some who can fit the bill.” Ritsuka shoots Ishtar a soulless stare (is this her Noble Phantasm?). “Because from now on, I plan to make every Servant participate. Now that I think about it, you can decide when that fine ass of hers is broken in.”

Sounds like I’m working for her. Doesn’t matter, Isthar’s going to sing a lovely tune for me before I leave today. My goal reaches another step of completion once I yank Ishtar’s bottom cover and her panties down. I give the cheeks a good slap and raise my hips for the upcoming anal.

“Hur, hur!”

“Hurry up?” I lick my lips and spread the bootylicious buns apart, reveal the inner pink muscles of her asshole. “Okay, but only because you want it.”

Ritsuka laughs at my joke, a bit strange for her to have no regret over this. I don’t have much myself when I spear my cock inside. Isthar howls the entire time my dick tries to go deep into her tight tunnel. Almost fifteen minutes pass before half of my penis makes it inside.

Soon, I’m pumping her good hole and making her shout at the top of her lungs despite how hard it is to hump through such a dry hole. I then remember buttholes aren’t pussies; they can’t create their own fluids. That issue hardly matters when my sex drive kicks in. Hard pumps and my semen helps keep the rhythm going. Even Ishtar quiets down after many fucks later, learns to enjoy - or tolerate - the anal play until we reach an end.

Mash, the one who traveled with me, arrives after my last ejaculation. She found me thanks to Roman, who manages to pinpoint my location from homing in on my magical signature (a lot of science stuff I can’t bother with at the moment). She’s kind of appalled to find my position on top of a crying Ishtar, who curses at me with many languages.

This reunion, unfortunately, begins a meeting that sets my future with Historia in stone. That Ritsuka wouldn’t let us leave until we agree to it, by the way. I, on that matter, argued until she offered to give me the best deal of all: a lifetime pass to the place and some absurd arrangement that will let me use Jeanne, Artoria and Ishtar whenever they’re needed for my benefit. Against my better judgement, I agreed only to regret it later.

And so it begins, a life full of twists and turns that'll force me to mingle with some weirdos like me along the way, force me to challenge all the problems that'll make my tender spots throb hard for the right and wrong reasons.


	2. Neo Testament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another new Master experiments with one of many ‘Servants’ tampered for the sake of her greater good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it’s been a long time since this one got updated. There is a story involved, Gen is one of four main Masters who serve as foundations. The last chapter was like his intro, but his full identity will be revealed later. This one and the next will introduce the other Masters before we get into the plot. There are also familiar Servants changed to match a dynamic with their hosts, something we’ll see along the way.

Ruth Lezman Animusphere: Magus of the Damned, Handler of Heroes

 

“ **Experiment 200,213 en route. System online, recording set.”**

Amber lights flicker on, excellent. System reboots take too damn long. Time is of the essence, especially when another Singularity could appear out of thin air (save for Lostbelts, abominations considered ‘investments’ by worthless Crypters). I would leave that issue to another Master, but not all are competent enough to fix the issue, let alone come out alive.

“Hello? Are you still there, Ruth? I’d like to come out now.”

This soft, whiny voice comes from the speakers. The source shows on my large, black monitors: a young man with silver hair. His small, scrawny stature is draped in a white gown. Black binds tie him to a metallic, silver chair. This setup is appropriate for him, a fruitful experiment.

In a roller chair, I scoot up and bring my head down near a small mike. This thin contraption protrudes from a brown dashboard swarmed by thin, blue marks of holographic projections. “You’re only allowed to come out when this experiment is over, Fabel.” I place my hands onto the holograms and type. Inputted commands should call the other participant over. One door in his room slides up to open the way. “You don’t have anything better to do all day, do you?”

“I wanted to try Summoning and try to get another Servant.”

“With your luck? Sure, give it a try with the measly three Quartzs you have.”

“Can I have an early pay day and get some more?”

Silence, I find, is the best way to deny his requests. Like a good little boy, Fabel remains still. He knows better than to expect my charity is different from Global’s standard. The expected second arrives, saunters across the iron floor until she stands in front of him.

“Hi Fabel.”

“Hi...Jack. Oh no, she asked you to come here?”

I note Fabel’s concern about the female participant, Jack the Ripper. Unlike her loli counterpart, this one stands taller and has long platinum hair tied into a ponytail. She wears a pink tank-top and crimson shorts - clothes that could stain easy when murderous tendencies arise. Her figure is also exquisite, very nice with those lean muscles. She fits well with the delicious image of a college student (so yummy in bed too).

“Yep. It’s time for us to start. I’m ready when you are.”

“I-I don’t know if it’s safe for you to be here. It doesn’t put me in the mood. Would it not have been better if one of the Altrias came?”

Fabel forgets he doesn’t determine his mood, I do. A press of a button on one of these keyboards exercises this power, a switch that activates the chair’s voltaic feature. A swarm of blue bolts runs over his body; he screams in pain - a simple prelude of the main event.

“Ow, ow, okay. Jack, sorry in advance!”

Fabel spoke in more incoherent words as his skin turns into a shade of dark green. He gains mass in most aspects of his body, grows a foot longer in length and width. The binds stretch, but holds . I press another button to cease the electrocution. My test subject continues to twitch as result of a jolted nervous system.

“Jack, feel free to begin.”

“Aye aye, Master.” My college Servant grabs the hem of Fabel’s gown and flips it up. This exposes his lower body’s new shade of green. The major factor extends from the crotch, his genital. It stretches eight inches long and three wide, still growing. Although it is not of my interest, this element plays a crucial role.

“Time to eat. Thanks for the meal.”

Fabel merely grunts - expected of his transformed state. This noise grows in volume after Jack grabs his cock, lifts it, then slides her tongue from the tip down to the base. When she goes the other direction, she repeats this act with a soft moan.

“It smells stinky. Did you not take a shower?”

“R-ruth wouldn’t l-let me. Rrgh, gh.” Fabel shook his lower body. His partner continues to lick his penis, give some variation by tending to the sides. Soon, she engulfs the large head. Her small mouth manages to take the rest of the length with ease, down to the base. Her throat shudders, but she remains calm. The lad tries to hump into her mouth - he’s reaching critical stage.

Jack plants her hands into his thighs. She raises her legs into the air with the finesse of a gymnast. Her limber attributes have never shown so well as now, when she does  a handstand on top of another person’s lap. With dick still in her mouth, she pushes to slide her lips upward of the meat. This legal-aged slut is one of the few who can deepthroat in such a strained position. Her smile and loud suckling depicts delight on her part. Fabel, in turn, growls. Harder bucking entails the phase that may endanger her, an appropriate sacrifice all in the name of my research.

“Master, is everything alright?”

Stern words sends a shiver down my spin, my breasts. I turn to see an older, gorgeous woman stand at the doorway. Her steel-gray hair is braided at its ends. Her attire matches that of a typical doctor save for the colors like the long red coat that extends down to her knees. In black work pants and a scarlet blouse, she portrays the theme exclusive to the Angel of Crimea.

“Hello Nightingale. The trial is progressing smoothly.”

“Has he not entered the berserk stage?”

“Not yet.” I bite my lip and cross one leg over the other. The appearance of this fine woman engages me as a welcome distraction. Viewing her large bust, wide hips, and peach skin only worsens this condition of mine. “But I did not call you. Why did you arrive without my call?”

“To see if you wanted my assistance now rather than later.”

Nightingale delivers powerful words with a strong posture. It deserves my attention, leaves my priorities spinning around like a Summoning Circle. “You should have waited until this ended for that. It’s not good conduct to bother your Master when she’s working.”

I rise from the seat and walk forward. Fabel’s harsher moans do not matter anymore. “You would have a better reason than that, explain now or suffer the consequences.”

“There’s nothing better than seeing you, Doctor. Even today, you’re simply gorgeous in those clothes.”

Nightingale compliments my cream-colored bodysuit. It’s a modified version of Chaldea’s combat suit. It’s also a good fashion choice when I always cut my raven hair in a bobbed hairstyle. The small white cape may seem a bit much, but appropriate like the ones worn by the Heroic Spirits of royalty origin.

Although flattery doesn’t work on me under casual circumstances, my assistant Caster is no ordinary monkey. Her praise always raises my pulse (best reminder that I possess a heart like the meager members of the Human race).

“That’s nice of you to say. Do you expect me to grant you a reward?”

“You already did by noticing me, Doctor.”

I stop in front of my Servant to place palms against her shoulders. Our eye contact generates heat in my veins. “You almost said it right. Say it the way I permitted you to say the other day.”

“I-if that is your wish. I’m truly happy you noticed me, Senpai.”

And  there it is, a word she would never have learned in her birth country (fun fact, teaching an English woman Japanese). She also speaks this endearing phrase in a tender voice - it’s too adorable. Acting upon my own shameful desires, I lean in to press my lips into her plump ones. She keeps them closed for a brief second, then opens them so our tongues may twist around each other for a deep kiss.

I continue to kiss Nightingale with all of my strength. This force bends her back into a small arch; I push until she presses into the wall. We harden our kiss, massage each other’s tongues. Spit runs down our mouths as we groan with this intimate contact.

“Call me by my real name.” I nibble on her bottom lip. “Consider it as part of your duty to relieve this lust of mine.”

“Apologies, Ruth. I-I will do whatever is required of me.”

I snap open her front blouse. Buttons pop off before they bounce around the ground with small taps. “Good answer,” is my reply before cupping the underside of her breasts. Both udders are under an eggshell bra. I do not intend to take them off, merely knead the tips under the cloth with fingers. Nightingale jerks her head around and stifles a louder moan.

“Still sensitive here?” I lick the tip of one tit. My spittle bleeds into the cotton. Her nipple hardens enough for me to suckle on it like a newborn. “Do you ever wonder on the idea of becoming the mother of a man’s child?”

“N-no, this body belong to you.”

“Damn right.” I take both of her wrists and pin them to the adjacent spots of the wall. She shakes and squeals as I feast on her breast - lick, bite, and sniff the soft flesh. “And nobody else will ever satisfy you, only me.”

I release her only to grab hold of her pants and push them down in one motion. This undressing exposes a pair of panties, blood red. It’s touching to see her adorned in my favorite color.

“Raaaauuugggh!”

A cry shakes the air like thunder. I look up to see Fabel grab hold of Jack’s ribs. He has also grown to the height of Hercules. With dark-green skin, he also gains mass in his jaws. His small muscles have become steel bulges, hair a bit longer. This transformation has snapped off the binds, presented the freedom used to stand on both feet.

“Ruth, he’s a Berserker now.”

I reply, “No shit,” before the turned Fabel bellows like a Beast-class monster. Jack tries to wriggle out of his hold, but she’s stuck in his giant fingers. Her mouth remains on his dick, a gross bat morphed into a pillar - a dragon would blush at such size. The Servant coughs and chokes, but the test subject does nothing to relieve her of this pain.

As feared, that immature boy lost all reasoning due to the Madness Enhancement, rank EX. It shows when he starts to move his hips all the while huffing like some mindless breeding bull. His movement puts Jack under a panic spell, yet her smaller physique cannot match against his. She’s somewhat forced to suck on the penis in different directions, be handled like a fleshlight. Tears, drool, and other juices flow out before he starts to move faster. His endowment shows as a bulge in her throat.

“Sh-should we help her?”

“Jack understood the risks when I put her there. For all we know, she’s enjoying the first man she’s been with in a while.”

I smile from memories of the times that woman writhes in my bed from my touch. Such imagery fuels my own passion, helps me focus back on the panties. I bite and tug on a piece of the soft fabric to pull it off. Although my lovely assistant looks at the screens with worry, she stays put. One more pull with my teeth separates the underwear from the crotch covered in trimmed, gray pubic hairs.

“Not shaving bare anymore?”

“Is that unacceptable?”

I sniff the spot to sense a hint of marshmallow, an odd scent. “It’s better than a bush, but try to keep this bare when you can.”

Nightingale nods with a blush covering her cheeks. I touch her pussy with my tongue, slide it up to give these red, bitter lips a strong lick. Strokes go up and down, some sideways so this cunnlingus could have some variation. Nightingale shifts her boots like a child who needs to urinate.

“Pwah, ha, ghrk. Y-your dick is a bit big, Fabel.”

I return my attention to the screen and see Jack on the floor of her room. My transformed subject bends down to push her back until she lies on her stomach. He tears off her shorts to bare her round, apple bottom. Below those wonderful cheeks are a pair of rosy vagina lips. Fabel grabbed the legs and lifted the entire body until it is at a level he can begin to eat out the snatch. His partner shrieks, dangles around like a beaten pinata.

I follow his example (even though this is my idea in the first place) and proceed onto pussy eating. Nightingale gasps; she tries to place a hand onto my skull. I slap it away hard to remind her who is in charge. She moans as the massaged area becomes wet. I move further up, dig around until the tip of my tongue finds a familiar bean.

“Oof, M-master. I mean, Ruth, I-I’m cumming.”

As stated, the vagina leaks fluids. I dig fingers into the hole and massage the tender walls. This is merely a small addition to the main course: flicking my tongue across the hardened spot of the clitoris. Nightingale hugs herself - places arms right under her large mammary glands. Her reddened face and squeamish expression is a titillating visual.

“Ooh, ahh! Slow down, you’re too big!”

I sigh, then turn my head to give the screen one more look. Jack’s cries appear to relate to the way she is bred doggystyle by Fabel’s massive prick. Back on the floor, the porked woman beats the floor with clenched fists. Her rider doesn’t seem to care much, he’s too busy pounding into her like a wild gorilla. His cock shows as a bump inside her stomach when the tip reaches what could be the womb. Both bodies secrete so much fluids, they create a puddle on the floor.

“So big. Ahh, ahh, Daddy. Daddy!”

And there goes Jack with her mental issues. I almost regret summoning this version of her Spirit Origin, but it did result in a proper Class change from the expected Assassin. But her quirk is nothing compared to the ‘love’ Fabel gives, breeding that should end in his satisfaction with zero chance of impregnation. It turns strange when that troubled slut asks her ‘daddy’ to smack her hard and he does with swift palm strikes to her bottom. Ugh, I can never understand that when my own father was mankind’s bane, the worst mage of my shitty family line.

“Ruth, I believe for the sake of her health, we need to assist her.”

“Don’t. She’s on her own, this experiment lost its value.” I pull on my Servant’s shoulders to bring her fine ass down to the ground. “We have the rest of the day to ourselves now, my precious nurse.”

I lean for another frenzy kiss and finger her clit to keep this particular mouth dry. Her breathless moans increase the urge for me to do more, ravage her until she grows numb from my touch. To fulfill this need, I pull her to the floor until her entire body is splayed out across the surface.

“But Jack, her health might deteriorate if we don't’ stop Fabel.”

“I swear to the Root, if you bring this up again, Jack won’t be of concern in the future!”

Nightingale purses her lips and squints her eyes. She’s scared for the well-being of another life as always. I sigh, mount her, and stroke her silky hair. “I didn’t mean that. Jack is a good girl, so she won’t disappear. Don’t look so scared, okay? Be calm.”

“I-I am.” My beloved Servant grabs my hand. When she smiles, it radiates like the sun - even if it is obviously forced. “I’m fine now. Please don’t worry about me, Master, and continue.”

Her choice of name irks me, but I ignore it (since it can always be fixed in the future). I plant my hands on the spot near Night’s head and spread my legs backwards. This enables our crotches to meet, our chests to press into the other, mounds feeling each other’s soft and bumpy shapes like balloons. It feels warm, wet, overall exhilarating when our pussies meet for their own slimy smooch. I dig my waist in and move, slide the vaginas back and forth against each other. She follows my lead, we engage in tribadism. Her sweet smell, her warmth, the supple tits, and the pleasure of this union; sex cannot be better with other woman compared to this angel. It’s even upon instinct that we kiss again, wrap arms around each other, drive fingers into each other’s hair strands as desperate acts of much needed intimacy.

Then we cum. Mine occurs as an incredible flow of blood and jolt throughout my head. This sensation spreads through my body, a wonderful reminder that I can feel this way with another woman. Nightingale apparently feels more enough to led out a loud, guttural moan. Once she is quiet, we both stop. Still, our arms never break their hold. We lie in each other’s arms and exchange pecks to the lips over the course of an undisclosed amount of time. I try to enjoy this time even though it is a bit disturbed by the noise Fabel and Jack creates as they reach their own orgasms.

* * *

 

**Gen**

“So good job, I think.”

“Thanks. Not my first time bitch-slapping a naughty Berserker.”

I stand in a white hallway where a lot of weird shit happened in a few minutes. First off, we found Fabel nailing college Jack’s pussy like he wants to put a litter of more Berserkers into her womb. Then Ritsuka slams his head into a wall with one backhand (how the fuck is that possible with those scrawny arms?!). The person we ‘saved’ is in front of me with thick globs of cream running down her naked body (she looks like a sorority girl from those ‘Saberfaces Gone Wild’ videos).

“Hi Gen, it’s been a long time.”

“Hi Jack, is your boss here? This newbie wants to pitch a sale to that fascist bitch.”

The legal teen coughs out droplets of cream. Some of them hits my pants (shit), I back away from the splatter range. “Nightingale went to go see her. So they’re probably fucking each other by now. It’s a surprise to see you’re visiting; she might command me to castrate that big penis of yours.”

She eyes my crotch with the same greed most thirsty women would give me. It makes me snicker, especially when fun moments of the past come to mind. “Isn’t going to work again unless you have a sharper knife to cut through it.”

“Why turn it into a dildo when it’s more fun to keep it attached to your meaty body?”

Jack opens her mouth wide, no exaggeration that it expands like a bear trap. She sticks out her tongue and wags her eyebrows, an invitation for a good blowjob. This doesn’t happen when a familiar _dicktator_ walks around into the hallway, stomps over with that unbridled bitchiness she’s famous for.

“Jack, leave and wash up. Nightingale will take care of Fabel.”

“Okay.” The sorority Servant winks at me before she skips off, flings leftover semen on the floor around her. I watch this for a bit, then look up to see Ruth’s fair-skinned scowl. We stare at each other for a bit, don’t even exchange hellos, until Nightingale appears to pick up the unconscious Fabel.

“Hi Night. Did you make good love to this witch?”

“I will not disclose that information.” Nightingale raises the unconscious green lug with ease. She drapes his upper half over her shoulder and smiles, “But it is good to see you.”

“Likewise. Be easy on him, there’s no telling what other crazy shit he’ll have to do as this one’s slave.”

Ruth steps in the way, blocks my view of Nightingale and her buns. She snaps, “How did you get in? Didn’t you walk through the hellstorm of traps I’ve laid out at the front?”

“I didn’t go through them. She did.”

I try to point at Ritsuka, but she’s nowhere to be found. When Ruth jumps like a scaredy-bitch, the person of interest walks out of her lab coat. This ginger midget raises the rainbow jewel in her hands and exclaims, “Look, free Quartz.”

“Hey!” The witch tries to get back her currency, but my ‘friend’ spins away to get out of reach. “That’s mine! Who are you?! One of this Bastard’s brood of thots?”

It never feels good to hear someone insult my harem. Ritsuka steps forward and says, “Lady, I’m out of his league. Probably yours too once I hijack all your Quartz, stick em up.”

It’s hilarious to see Ruth put on a ‘What the fuck did you say?’ face. My multi-summon quantity is on Ritsuka if they fight; she is just scary strong.

“Just kidding, I’m not the type of person to steal like that. It’s better when you can give it willingly by spending it on my merchandise.”

Ruth frowns, “What kind of merchandise?”

“She has a whorehouse full of Servants willing to do anything a visitor wants.”

I say the last part because it’s a funny sentence to use. As expected, Ruth shows the same face Francis Drake made when I punched her crotch on a bet (she won, that hustling whore). It isn’t surprising to hear her say, “No thank you. As much fun as it is for degenerates to waste their time screwing history’s greatest figures, I have better things to do.”

“How’s that any different from what you do with your crew, Witch Bitch? By the way, did you summon Stalin with your blood as a catalyst? It’s a good man to have around when you need to continue your work for the name of a fake cause.”

“What was that, Bastard?” Ruth raises a hand next to her ear. “Sorry, the language of a one-balled mutt like yourself isn’t easy to comprehend. Maybe you can take some lessons from the father and mother you never had once they stop missing your birthdays on purpose.”

I crack my neck and flex fingers that slowly turn into claws. Ruth seems ready as violet lines of magical energy  flow from her hair. Her eyes turn pure white, the only fucking things that make me question my chances of survival.

“Gen, shut up. This is a business trip, so don’t get violent on Mrs. Rich Bitch here.”

“Rich Bitch?!” Ruth grits her teeth - she’s about to go full-on Goetia on Ritsuka (shit, wish I had made a bet with someone on their fight). “Like I’d give you anything after this encounter! In fact, I’d be doing the entire universe a favor by getting rid of your lot!”

“Ruth, do you really want to do that when she has prime time spot for the next summoning banner?”

It’s good to see the woman suddenly calm down thanks to my smartness (I don’t always think with my bigger, thicker head). Her eyes even regain their pupils before she asks, “Are you saying her Chaldea’s location shares the same traits of the compatible catalysts?”

That question makes me feel bad because Musashi is cool, which could change if she ever falls into the hand of this Master. But my ‘buddy’ here would have spilled the beans, probably later after Ruth uses her skills that impressed even the Old Man.

“Yep, Gennifer here thought you’d like a woman with child-bearing hips like that swordswoman.”

Ruth snickers (like a rude bitch), “That name is only proper if he is ever worthy of wearing a pair of panties.”

“Shut up, lesbo, you’re the one who lives at the fucking edge of the galaxy. I’m still pissed about that, hearing Fishtar bitch during the entire trip, so you better give me a good reply!”

Ritsuka’s outburst startles the taller woman. She even does it with that creepy smile (still scary shit when seen with her blank orange eyes). I sense this is where we need to start making a choice before things get out of hand (would not want to be at the end of a bitch-slap that knocked out a Berserker).

“So Ruth, what’s it going to be?” I ask. “Are you in or out?”

The dark-haired lady tilts her head and looks at the floor. She keeps us waiting with this pondering that goes on for a bit until she asks, “How certain are you of this information? I’m aware this means entering some whorehouse, but I only want to be there for the time of the summoning banner.”

Few days later, Ruth totally changes her mind. Honestly, I just came along to help Ritsuka out for a bit. A business trip turns into a fucking nightmare once that ballbuster makes herself ‘comfortable’ in a closer region. Damnit to the hell that is Giles’s tentacle holes, this is the worst. And on top of this pile of shitty rolls, she invites another Master over. Another one. And she’s friends with him or her, gender is unspecific for some reason.

Oh, and another Singularity has just been detected right as the summoning banner rolls around...FUCK ME!

*****

A/N: And here it is. I’m even including small info of the familiar Servants.

 

Servant Profiles

 

**Jack the Ripper**

Rarity: 4-star

Class: Avenger

Bio: She is not the same Whitechapel Murderer from the late 1800s, but a legacy reborn in the later 2030s (details altered by artificial means). This manifestation existed as a young woman who went to college, provided by a rich suitor, a sugardaddy. Public backlash and unfortunate events led this young soul down a dark path, became a will of vengeance undeterred by safeguards of modern technology.

Fun Fact: Her catalysts would also summon her Berserker and Assassin counterparts. Greater chances of summoning this Avenger version would mean performing the ritual either around the time period of her existence or including other related materials.

 

 

**Florence Nightingale**

Rarity: ???

Class: Caster

Bio: This Nightingale was a Berserker modified into a Caster. Although some would say she has more utility qualities as this Class, other change in parameters indicate a greater power utilized by mystical, forbidden methods only practiced by her Master and predecessors.

Fun Fact: Nightingale gets along with males as her past life involved camaraderie with many. Ruth’s choice of Servants leaves the Caster under uneasy circumstances, especially when the practice of indoctrination is used.

**Author's Note:**

> So there’s a lot of unspoken things about Gen and this situation that can only be covered in later chapters. This one also took long because I didn’t expect the beginning to offer this much material to cover. Of course, since this is both fun and arousing for me, I’ll do my best to cover it all in future chapters. Till then, happy fapping.


End file.
